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The Dark Alchemyst(Back story)
Today was the day, the boy told himself. Today was the day that everything changed. The boy clutched his red stone in his hand a little too tightly and made a tiny little slit in his palm. He watched the red liquid trickle down his arm, slowly but steadily moving towards his elbow. The boy looked into his other hand where the plain but mesmerizing black stone sat. He heard it whispering him secrets and knowledge, but whenever he tried to make sense of it, he ended up confused. The boy looked around him, making sure that no one was around to see him. Before beginning the ritual, he reached into his back pocket to reveal a book. He looked carefully and slowly at the book, digesting it, remembering it and then throwing it as far as possible. He wouldn’t—couldn’t risk it being destroyed. The boy knew that this was his last chance to turn back, to ignore the deep power he knew the stone was capable of if harnessed correctly. The boy heaved himself over to a nearby pool of water and looked his reflection. He looked at his glasses, his two blue eyes and his brown hair. He needed to be reminded of who he truly was before doing what needed to be done. He breathed in heavily, and then started. Instantly he felt the air around him go harsh, picking at his exposed skin and clothes. His hair blew in many different directions before a flash of black struck him in the head. The boy felt knowledge and power coursing through his veins. Suddenly a red beam of light lit up the night, the red beam reached up into the skies, originating from the boys right eye. He collapsed on his knees before he was enveloped in darkness. He felt powerful, strong—stronger than ever before! But then, the power was too much, he couldn’t stop it, it was starting to corrupt him. The boy urgently tried to stop it, but he couldn’t. The boy collapsed to the ground, his body shaking. Eventually the boy passed out from exhaustion. When he awoke, he was corrupted, the darkness had nearly destroyed him, but he was alive by just a thread. He was strong, yes he was very strong, but he lost a lot to gain the strength. The boy looked at his bleeding hand; he placed his red stone to the hand, turned on his aura and watched his hand slowly begin to heal. After the process finished he felt weaker, but healthier. The boy began to digest his surroundings. He felt a tug in the back of his mind, but he couldn’t recognize the where he was. He spotted a pool of water. He slowly made his way over to it. When he looked down, an unfamiliar face looked back up. There was a boy with one red eye, one blue, the boy had shattered glasses and dark brown hair. The boy quickly tossed the useless glasses to the ground and made his way to the book he noticed whilst coming to the water pool. He picked up the book. The book was called ‘The Darkend’. Suddenly the little tug at the back of his mind tugged harder. Some memories squeezed through and he began to remember…